


like a heartbeat drives you mad

by lestered (lgbtrobed)



Series: when the rain washes you clean, you'll know [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, First Time, Flashbacks, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lgbtrobed/pseuds/lestered
Summary: sequel to "thunder only happens when it's raining"Dan closes his eyes for a few breaths, then blinks them back open. “If you’d asked me that a year ago?” He bites his bottom lip and worries it between his teeth. “I’d have said yes for sure. But that sounds fucked up to me now.”Phil lifts his eyebrows slightly. “What changed?”The answer to that, Dan knows, is unsurprisingly simple. He swallows just to make sure he’s not choked up when he speaks.“I met you.”
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: when the rain washes you clean, you'll know [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811947
Comments: 30
Kudos: 103





	like a heartbeat drives you mad

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone! this fic was written for heartsopenminds on tumblr, who requested dan and phil's first time after "thunder only happens when it's raining." read it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19480768) if you haven't already for context!
> 
> many thanks to them as well for their donation to dan's birthday phanworks auction ♥️

“Jesus! Fuck,” Dan tenses up again before he can think better of it. Phil’s lips brush against his cheek. 

“Dan,” he whispers apprehensively. 

He breathes in, opens his eyes, breathes out. “Keep going,” he tells him. “It’s fine.”

Phil bites his lip. “You don’t seem fine.”

“I am, though,” he insists, shifting a bit to try and get more comfortable. His arms are starting to get tired from holding his knees up to his chest, hips and lower back aching as they attempt this new position.

He knows first times aren’t magical. But god, this is so crampy, and he knows it’s probably easiest for Phil but having his legs spread in the air is just so… revealing. It’s so vulnerable, so submissive, so not what he’s used to. And that’s not a bad thing, but his body doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo. It’s taken ages for Phil to stretch him out because he keeps clenching around his fingers, and Phil keeps stopping, seeming to want him less and less the more it happens.

_God. One good thing. Was it too much to hope for just one good thing?_

“Dan,” Phil says after he doesn’t speak up for a while, kissing him in a bid for his attention. It works. It makes his head stop racing, soothes his nerves a bit. “We can keep going if it’s okay. I just really, _really_ don’t want to hurt you.”

Dan nods right away. “Keep going.”

So he does. He’s trying so hard to be gentle, Dan can tell. But the fact is that Phil’s pretty fucking big and Dan’s pretty fucking nervous and tight, but he squeezes his eyes shut and manages not to clench up again until Phil’s bottomed out.

“Fuck,” Phil breathes shakily against his shoulder. His lips trail up Dan’s neck, hand smoothing over his hip. “Try and relax,” he whispers once he makes it to his lips, catching them in a deep, purposeful kiss. He gently moves Dan’s hands away from where they’re gripping the backs of his knees. It’s a bit of sweet relief, letting his legs wrap more naturally around Phil’s waist instead. “You’re really tight.”

 _No shit_ , he thinks, breathing out and running his hands up over Phil’s biceps. Everything in his body is screaming at him that he’s not actually built for this. Except for his heart, which wants to give Phil everything. Which is telling him this _is_ right, it’s just new and strange. Which knows that Phil cares about him and he wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t supposed to feel good for Dan, too.

It doesn’t make his body relax but it quiets his mind for a little while, letting him focus instead on the way Phil’s kissing him - kissing his neck and chest, lips and cheeks, lavishing him with the sort of affection that he’s only ever seen in movies. 

“We can stop,” Phil says again after some more time passes, quiet and still unmoving. “I swear, Dan, it’s not a big deal if-”

Anger flares hot in his chest before Phil can finish speaking. It shouldn’t, because he’s just being nice. He’s just being careful. But they’re never gonna get anywhere if he keeps treating Dan like he’s so breakable, especially when he’s already broken. So it doesn’t fucking matter.

“No,” he cuts him off, shutting his eyes and trying to stay cool. But his voice is still unsteady, he’s still clinging to Phil too tight and breathing too short and fast. “Just… just move, Phil, okay? Just fucking do it, _please_ , I wanna get this over with.”

As soon as the words are out, he knows he’s said the absolute wrong thing. The stony silence that follows just confirms it tenfold. He kicks himself mentally. Hell, if Phil wasn’t still on top of him, he might be kicking himself physically, too. The last thing he wants to do now is open his eyes and see the hurt in Phil’s expression, but he does anyway. Phil looks away as soon as their eyes meet, sighing and shaking his head a little to himself.

Then he shifts his weight, pulling out and away slowly - the slow part only for Dan’s sake, he figures. Phil probably wants out as fast as possible, and he doesn’t blame him. 

He closes his eyes again and presses the heels of his hands against them, just trying to push back the hot tears threatening to spill. Crying like a fucking baby in front of Phil would really just be the cherry on top of his humiliation sundae.

 _Yeah_ , he thinks. _One good thing_ was _too much to hope for._

-

**FIVE WEEKS EARLIER**

Part of him wonders if they’ll even make it to the rain check.

“Are you paying attention?” Phil asks.

Dan’s straddling his lap, hands buried in Phil’s hair and in such a happy haze from making out that he can’t even hear Buffy in the background anymore. 

“Obviously not,” he scoffs, and leans back in for another kiss only to be stopped by Phil’s hands on his chest. He whines. “You think I can pay attention to the damn _Buffy_ musical when I’m in your bed? With you? And you look like… you?”

Phil’s cheeks are flushed, lips red and kiss-swollen and irresistible. He’s not sure exactly how long they’ve been snogging, probably well over an hour now. And yeah, maybe Dan’s being a little greedy, but keeping his hands to himself on the walk home from the party had been hard enough. A safe distance apart, hands in their pockets, rousing no suspicion from any given person they passed that might or might not have been a violent homophobe. Depressing, to have to behave that way outside the safe little bubble of Phil’s friend group. Necessary, but depressing.

“Flattery gets you nowhere,” Phil tells him. But he bunches his hand in the front of Dan’s t-shirt, eyes sparkling as he tugs him close and kisses him again. “I told you. If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

 _A Spice Girls reference?_ It’s ridiculous really, everything out of Phil’s mouth just makes Dan want to grab him and smother him in more and more kisses til his lips go numb. But he attempts a deadpan stare instead. “You’re lame.”

Phil kisses his cheek. “You think it’s cute.”

God help him, he really does.

“I fucking loved the Spice Girls when I was a kid, actually,” he says as Phil reaches around him to shut his laptop and place it on the desk beside the bed. 

“Yeah?” Phil asks. He’s still propped up against the wall but he tilts his head, looking at Dan almost intently before reaching forward to smooth out the wrinkles he’d put into his shirt just a moment before. “They’re not very emo.”

“Shocked that I wasn’t a greebo yet at age six?” He asks. Phil shoves playfully at his shoulder.

“My grandma has this video of me from around then,” he continues. “I’m in her garden wearing some ridiculous wig - don’t ask where the hell _that_ came from - and she’s telling me to sing and dance to some Spice Girls. Which, now that I think about it, Spice World was the first CD I ever owned. I bet she bought it for me.”

Phil’s hands are resting on his waist, thumbs moving in gentle circles over his hipbones while he talks. He feels his own smile start to fade as he brings his hands down to cover Phil’s, stilling them for a moment. The movement is nice, but distracting. “I stopped listening to them pretty soon after that, though.”

Phil hums a little bit. Dan thinks he probably knows the answer to the next question he asks him, but he asks it anyway. “How come?”

He shrugs, suddenly very fascinated by the buttons on Phil’s shirt rather than his eyes. He reaches out and buttons a couple, then unbuttons them again. “I got punched just for smiling sometimes. If the guys at school thought smiling was too gay, I didn’t wanna find out what they thought about girl groups.”

Phil doesn’t say anything to that, which is uncomfortable as hell. He feels a little too exposed then. On Phil’s lap, so up close and personal, he feels like Phil can see everything and he’s not sure he wants him to. Not yet. He shifts his weight to the side, rolling away and settling beside Phil instead.

“When you realized you liked guys, were you upset?” Phil asks after another quiet moment.

He hates the achy lump he can feel forming in his throat, because he doesn’t want to tell Phil the truth about that. He really doesn’t. He clenches his jaw and breathes in deep through his nose, determined not to cry. Then he nods.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I was fucking pissed.”

“Yeah,” Phil sighs, which wasn’t quite the response Dan was expecting. “Me too.”

Dan turns to face him just a bit. Phil’s slumped against the wall, idly scratching his wrist. Then he glances over at Dan. “I wanted to blend in,” he explains. “I was already this weird, anxious nerd and being gay was like... everyone said it was wrong. It was this huge, guilty secret and it was just another thing that made me not like everybody else.”

He shifts over until he’s close enough that Phil can lean down and rest his head on Dan’s shoulder. “It made me wanna just disappear,” he adds.

Those words coming from Phil’s mouth are chilling. He doesn’t like that at all.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Dan whispers. “And I’m glad you didn’t turn normal, either. Everyone else is so fucking boring.”

Phil smiles a little, the look in his eyes indicating that it’s still Dan’s turn to talk. So he sighs and leans in some more, letting his cheek rest on the top of Phil’s head. 

“I didn’t know what gay meant for a long time, I just knew it was an insult. So it must have been a bad thing, whatever it was.” 

He feels Phil nod a little.

“Once I did learn what it meant, I just deflected,” he continues. “I wouldn’t let it get to me because at least _I_ knew it wasn’t true, you know? And that was what mattered.”

He doesn’t know where to go from there, focusing instead on blinking back the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He feels a wash of relief when Phil speaks up instead.

“So when you realized you actually were gay, you felt like they’d won?” He guesses. “You didn’t like that they’d been right all along.”

Dan bites his lip. That’s exactly it.

“I was used to denying it,” he adds. “I thought once I just proved I was straight, they’d all leave me alone. Then I realized that I really was the bad thing that they kept calling me. And I felt broken.”

“Yeah,” Phil whispers. Dan feels him turn his head, dryly pressing his lips to Dan’s cloth-covered shoulder. He manages a tiny bit of a smile and turns in towards him. 

“I was ready to bolt tonight, when Cara asked if I liked you,” he says. “I’m really fucking happy I didn’t. Hanging out with you feels good. Kissing you feels _so_ good. How am I supposed to think something that feels that good is actually bad?”

“I know,” Phil whispers, shifting forward and pressing the softest of kisses to Dan’s lips. “How about we go to sleep?” He asks when he pulls away. “It’s been a pretty long night.”

Dan’s stomach swoops happily at the invitation. 

He crawls forward into Phil’s outstretched arms, with his voice from earlier floating to the forefront of his mind. _I really like you, Dan._ Phil hugs him securely. _Like… I really like you._

He likes those words a lot. They give him that warm, fluttery, first-crush sort of feeling. 

But the sleep he falls into is a restless one.

-

A month later, he’s brave enough to curl himself around Phil on the sofa and not panic whenever he hears someone walking downstairs or coming in through the front door.

Phil’s housemates are nice, accepting people. Of course they are. Every Phil-adjacent person he’s met has generally been lovely. On one hand, he knows it’s a gross over-romanticisation to think Phil radiates so much warmth and sincerity that goodness simply follows him wherever he goes. On another, squirrels and pigeons do literally follow him around campus knowing he keeps bread and seeds on hand for them, so it’s hard sometimes not to picture him as an actual fairytale prince.

At the moment, he’s not paying attention to anything but the sound of Phil’s heart beating, right underneath where Dan’s head is pillowed on his chest. Not the sounds of housemates upstairs, not the credits rolling on the TV, not even his own thoughts really. Eyes half closed, with Phil’s arms draped loosely around him, his head is blissfully empty for once.

“I can’t believe I just sat through two hours of hot garbage,” Cara says after a moment of silence, gently coaxing Dan back to reality. 

“Hour and fifty two minutes,” Phil sounds unfazed. The credits are still going when Dan blinks his eyes open and adjusts his head to look at her, looking shell-shocked as she sits cross-legged in the recliner.

“ _Kill Bill_ is a fucking great movie,” he argues. “Also, you’re the one who asked us to watch it.”

She groans and sinks down further. “I can’t believe this is Nathan’s favourite movie. That was so bloody violent, I feel like I should be having second thoughts.”

“It’s Tarantino,” Phil shrugs, like that’s enough explanation. “He’ll probably think it’s cool you watched it, even if you hated it.”

“What do you two know?” She grumbles, even though Dan’s hardly paying attention. Phil’s smoothing one of his hands through his hair now and it’s much easier to focus on the light, soothing drag of fingertips across his scalp. “You spent half the movie trying to eat each others’ faces off.”

Can’t argue with that. 

“When are you seeing him next?” Phil asks.

“We have a study date tomorrow,” she sighs. “I knew he was too good to be true.”

“Hey, you know, guys who like violent movies can be good boyfriends,” Dan tells her, with an exaggerated batting of his eyes. “Look at mine.”

“Gross,” Cara says as Phil places two fingers under his chin, tilting his head up and kissing him. But he can hear the smile in her voice. “I heavily regret setting you two up, you know.”

“Yeah,” Phil kisses him again for emphasis and leans back on the couch, “but we don’t.”

She rolls her eyes fondly as she stands up out of her chair. “I should go to bed,” she says, picking her wine glass up off the coffee table and finishing the little bit that’s left. “I, uh. Have an entire unit of orgo to teach myself in the morning so I don’t sound like an idiot when I see him.”

“Night,” they mumble in unison. Dan waits until he hears her footsteps on the stairs before he meets Phil’s eyes again. He’s looking at him curiously. 

Dan tilts his head. “What?”

“You called me your boyfriend,” Phil says. 

Oh. 

Bless him, Dan can tell he’s trying to keep the cautiously optimistic tone out of his voice, but he’s not really succeeding. “Did you mean to?”

_Oh._

His face quickly grows hot. 

“Um…”

“Because it’d be cool if you did,” Phil adds quickly. “But it’s also okay if you didn’t. But if you did… I mean, I just wasn’t expecting it. Last time we talked about it you said you weren’t sure. But you know how I feel about you.”

God. 

Yeah, he does know how Phil feels about him. He’s had a while now to get used to it, but the novelty hasn’t worn off. It’s right there in front of him, though: Phil’s fingers playing delicately with his hoodie strings while he waits for Dan to say something, anything, with hopeful blue eyes and bated breath. 

He knows how he feels about Phil, too. His heart races every time they kiss, he gets butterflies every time Phil’s name lights up his phone screen, and he sleeps like a baby in Phil’s bed compared to his own. He knows exactly why that is, and really, it’s stupid of him to keep pretending like he doesn’t know what he wants. 

“Yeah,” he breathes, reaching his hands out to cup Phil’s face and tracing his thumbs lightly over those sharp cheekbones and lightly stubbled jaw. Phil leans slightly into the palm of one of his hands, stopping just short of nuzzling him. 

He really, _really_ knows what he wants. 

“Yeah,” he repeats, keeping his voice a little steadier this time. “I meant it.”

-

The next morning, he wakes up to an arm draped heavily around his waist and a pair of soft, warm lips pressing kisses to his shoulder. He musters up a low hum to let Phil know that he’s successfully stirred him.

“Morning,” Phil mumbles. They’re both in just their pants, two thin layers of cotton spandex between them as he’s spooned against Phil’s chest. Which means, fortunately, that he can feel _everything._

Phil’s hard, like he is almost every morning that Dan wakes up with him. It had flustered him the very first time, coming to the morning after the party and feeling that long, thick length nudging at one of his ass cheeks as Phil stayed sleeping, looking so sweet. With no liquid courage to help him out, it had felt taboo. Sexy, but still not unshameful. Natural, but still not unnatural. Right, but still not… not wrong. Confusing, how part of him had wanted to get the hell out and part of him wanted to never leave.

He’s lucky the latter part won out.

They’d talked about it. Phil wouldn’t let him get away with not talking, and that’s another thing he’s lucky for. Because slowly but surely peeling back layers of guilt and self hatred means that this morning, his very first instinct is to press his ass back against Phil’s crotch, giving his hips an experimental little wiggle. 

Phil groans. He bites back a satisfied smile and places his hand over top of Phil’s, lacing their fingers together and grinding back on him again. 

“G’morning to you too,” Dan finally replies, voice still soft and scratchy from sleep.

“You’re so warm,” Phil whispers, arm tightening around his waist as he presses closer, laying kisses up and down Dan’s neck. He pauses to gently bite his earlobe and his hand slides over to Dan’s hip, giving it a firm squeeze and rutting forward again. “How are you so warm all the time?”

He knows it’s rhetorical, but even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t have the words to give a coherent answer. Not with Phil touching him all over, hot breath and wet lips on Dan’s neck, properly humping him now. It makes him flush everywhere, all over his cheeks and down his neck and chest, blood rushing in between his legs. He just moans softly and shifts around trying to spread his legs, to accommodate himself better. Phil notices almost right away, slides his hand down and around to Dan’s inner thigh, grips onto a handful of the soft flesh there and tugs back til Dan’s knee is bent, foot planted on the mattress, and legs spread wide open. Much easier access. Phil smooths his palm over the lower part of his belly, thumb slipping underneath his waistband.

“This okay?” Phil asks. He feels like melting. Of course Phil still asks. Of course, Phil’s grinding on his ass like his life depends on it, bare chest rising and falling against Dan’s back in heavy, aroused sighs, but he still asks in the softest and nicest voice if it’s okay. He huffs out a laugh because it’s actually absurd. And because he needs something to do with the horny energy building up inside him. 

“Fuck. Yeah. Obviously,” he places his hand over Phil’s and nudges him down further, for emphasis. 

“M’kay,” Phil whispers, pressing his lips to the back of Dan’s neck as he finally slips his hand underneath his waistband. “Good.”

It’s over almost embarrassingly quick, not that he gives a fuck when he’s cumming hot and fast over Phil’s fist. Dan shudders when he gives him one last squeeze at the tip, making sure he’s got it all before pulling his hand out of the boxers they’ve made a mess of.

“Here,” he kicks them off hastily as he catches his breath, rolling onto his back and passing them over to Phil, who wipes his hand clean before tossing them onto the floor. 

“That was really hot,” Phil sighs, leaning over and planting a soft kiss on Dan’s lips. “You’re really hot when you cum.”

Dan’s body still feels like it’s made of water, so for a moment all he does is part his lips and kiss back before mustering the energy to lift his arms and place his hands on Phil’s cheeks.

“Thanks,” he whispers between kisses. “You’re pretty hot when you’re making me.”

It’s not until they shift around a little and Dan feels Phil’s completely hard cock pressing against his hip, that he realizes how rude he’s being. He moves his hands to Phil’s shoulders, pushing him back and earning a noise of confusion. 

“What’re you doing?” Phil sounds almost distressed when he tries to lean back in. Dan wraps his legs tightly around Phil’s waist and rolls them over, laying him out on his back. 

“Returning the favour,” he says simply, hooking his thumbs under Phil’s waistband and leaning down, for a quick, chaste peck on the lips. “I mean,” he leans back, blinking at him with faux naivety, “if you want.”

Phil huffs. “You’re so fucking cheeky,” he grumbles, the fond glint in his eyes betraying any show of real annoyance as he smooths his hands up over Dan’s thighs. “Yeah. Yes, I want. Please.”

That’s the most satisfying fucking feeling in the world, he thinks as he tugs Phil’s pants off, noting the substantial damp patch in the front where his cock’s been leaking. When Phil wants him like this, there’s no room for doubt. Only desire.

That feeling only grows when Phil gasps softly, automatically spreading his legs wider when Dan takes him in hand and gives him a couple long, slow pumps just to start.

“You’re cute when you’re desperate, you know,” he sighs, continuing a steady pace with his hand and bending down for a teasing, feather-light kiss again. Phil attempts a noise of indignation that gets cut off by a groan when Dan thumbs firmly over the tip of his cock.

“Yeah, well. You’re good at this,” Phil says. “You’re really good at this.”

God, and the praise. He’s kissing his way down Phil’s body without a second thought until his lips are pressed right underneath his bellybutton, arms braced on either side of his hips for stabilization. 

“Oh,” Phil whispers, and Dan glances up at him through his eyelashes. He’s propped up on his elbows, pale cheeks flushed and eyes dark. Dan whines a little just at the sight of him before ducking his head back down and delicately sucking just the head of Phil’s cock into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Dan hears Phil’s head thud softly against his pillow and knows he’s flopped back down again. His hand tangles into Dan’s hair and that’s when he gives into it fully, closes his eyes and relaxes his jaw and takes it deeper.

He’s only done this once before, and it was more of a tentative foray during a particularly steamy shower, cut short by one of Phil’s hungover housemates barging in to puke their guts out, _loudly,_ into the toilet.

Which had killed the mood slightly. 

Not this time. This time, it’s just them, the creaking of the bedsprings, Phil’s softly laboured breathing and the undeniably hot wet suction noise when Dan hollows out his cheeks, breathes in slowly through his nose and sinks down even further. Phil moans, low and deep when his cock nudges against the back of Dan’s throat.

That’s when he makes the same amateur mistake he made the first time he’d tried this and bobs his head down a little too fast, too enthusiastic and hits his gag reflex. He pulls back coughing with watery eyes and spit strings trailing down his chin.

The bedsheets rustle as Phil props himself up on his elbows again. “Are you-” he starts, but the words die on his lips as soon as they make eye contact. He’s almost trancelike when he reaches down, brushing his hand delicately through Dan’s fringe and tracing his fingers over slick, swollen lips. He can’t help himself; he lowers his head again before he’s even properly caught his breath.

“Jesus, Dan,” Phil’s hand tangles in his hair again, putting a slight bit of pressure on the back of his head while his hips tentatively rock up. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep going like that.”

 _That’s the point,_ he wants to say, but he can’t take his mouth off Phil’s cock for even a second to do so. It’s too fucking good, getting to be in control like this. So instead he peers up at him through his lashes, humming softly and making Phil’s jaw drop in a silent moan. 

He settles into an easy rhythm, alternating different techniques and trying to take as much of Phil’s cock as he can. He takes all of him a couple times and it’s fucking difficult, it makes his jaw hurt and it only lasts a second before he has to gag and spit it out, but it’s worth it. The louder and more obscenely he sucks, slurps, chokes, moans around it, the more Phil falls apart until he’s a desperate, panting mess, not even trying to hold back anymore on fucking Dan’s mouth when he wants to.

And he also wasn’t exaggerating about not lasting. It’s really just a few minutes later that he’s ignoring Phil’s little warning tugs to his hair, choosing instead to suck him down all the way and let him spill down his throat. He flutters his eyes closed, listening to Phil shudder and moan and curse above him. He doesn’t even try not to smirk when he rests his head on Phil’s hip, both of them taking a moment to catch their breath.

“God,” Phil finally says with a heavy sigh, “You’re really something.”

He plants a tiny kiss on Phil’s stomach before shimmying his way up to press their lips together. “In a good way?”

“Yeah,” Phil smiles. “A really good way.”

He’s pretty sure it doesn’t get better than this. Closing his eyes as he rests his head on the pillow next to Phil’s, sighing as the fire in his veins cools into a warm, comfortable, simmer - that’s when it feels like something inside him just knows.

“You know, I think I’m ready,” he says softly, opening his eyes.

“Hm?” Phil looks surprised when Dan rolls over on top of him, but still wraps his arms around him reflexively. “Ready for what?”

He settles into the embrace. “Ready to have sex with you.”

-

“I’d ask which one you normally do,” he says later, “but I really don’t wanna think about you with other guys.”

“Hm?” Phil doesn’t sound very awake, even though it’s only midafternoon. Dan doesn’t blame him, though. He’s had a long week of lectures and papers and night shifts at the library and this weekend crash is probably long overdue. He’s got one leg hitched around Dan’s hips, arm slung loosely over his torso and his head tucked into the crook of his neck, so that Dan can nuzzle his hair and breathe in the scent of his raspberry shampoo if he just turns his head a bit. Phil’s laptop is balanced on the edge of his desk, playing an episode of _Lost_ that neither of them are paying attention to. Phil’s too busy drifting in and out of consciousness and Dan’s too busy overthinking.

“I get really jealous,” he explains. He rubs one hand over his forehead and then back through his hair. “My ex fucking hated that about me.” 

“Oh?” Phil sounds more alert now. He lifts his head, turns and rests his cheek on Dan’s shoulder so they’re face-to-face, noses brushing with even the tiniest of movements. 

Dan sighs. “Yeah. So thinking about you having sex with anyone else makes me feel ill. But we should talk about how we’re gonna do it, right?”

“Oh,” Phil repeats, with much more understanding this time. He lifts his head from Dan’s shoulder, rubs his eyes a bit and props himself up on his forearms instead. “Shit. Yeah. I’m used to topping but… you know, it’s whatever you want. If you know what you want, I mean.”

The thing is, he really does. He’s got an image in his head curated from porn and personal fantasy and filthy things Phil’s whispered in his ear while wanking him off. It’s only now that he’s feeling bashful about putting it into words. 

Phil looks like he understands his unspoken apprehension, and waits patiently until Dan blows out a breath and nods. 

“Okay. Yeah. I think I know what I want.”

Even so, Phil ends up insisting they wait until next weekend, so Dan can have the week just to really make sure. It’s too well-meaning for him to feel annoyed, even if his body’s practically vibrating with how bad he wants it by the time they’re done discussing the logistics. Plus, the bags under Phil’s eyes and the sleepiness in his voice are impossible to say no to. Dan has a feeling their one week waiting period is just as much for Phil as it is for him. 

So the weekend ends the same way it always does, with too many long, lingering goodbye kisses in Phil’s kitchen, just inside the front door. With too many whispers and mumbles about missing each other and not wanting to leave. And then a final hollow feeling in his chest once he finally forces himself out the door, staring forlornly for just a moment after Phil closes it. 

Damn. He really is falling. 

-

The first memory resurfaces in the middle of his contract law lecture, Thursday night.

_The locker rooms are stuffy and dim and gross. Dan’s certain that this is absolutely the worst thing about his school, and that’s a high fucking bar._

_One hour of sport twice a week isn’t dehumanising enough. Mandatory showering policies mean that twice a week he’s also got to navigate through a sea of sweaty, partially-to-fully naked dickheads nearly blind, since he doesn’t dare to look anywhere except straight down at his feet._

_He’s had a system worked out since last year that’s almost foolproof. After phys ed he’s always the first to the locker room. He’s got no one to chat and meander along with anyway, but really he just needs to make a beeline to his designated spot._

_The front-left side of the communal shower is the safest. Where the wall of the shower intersects with a row of lockers, creating a corner about three lockers wide that he can hide in, where he’s trained his eyes to stay no matter what’s going on around him. He turns the spigot on and doesn’t even wait for the water to warm up before he steps under, washes as fast as humanly possible, then books it out of there with a towel wrapped tightly around his hips. Back at his locker he tugs his pants on underneath it, letting it drop and pool around his feet after. Then his heart slows down considerably. The hardest part is over with._

_He sighs, picking his towel up off the ground and dabbing away at the beads of sweat gathered on his brow._

_“Oi, Howell,” a voice booms from behind him just as he’s pulling his shirt on. “A couple of us have got a question for you.”_

_He shuts his eyes and doesn’t respond, and he especially doesn’t turn around. Never ends well if he does._

_“We noticed you’re always rushing in here as soon as class is over,” the voice continues. He hears a few scattered snickers and briefly wonders just how many guys are standing behind him. “Why is that, huh? It’s like you can’t get in here fast enough. Reckon it’s because you don’t wanna miss a second. Being surrounded by all of us wet, naked guys... that’s your dream, innit?”_

_Dan just clenches his jaw, reaching down and doing up the first few buttons on his shirt. He still doesn’t respond. Still doesn’t turn around._

_“Hey, bumboy,” another voice pipes up. “He asked you a question. Bit rude of you not to answer.”_

_That’s when he’s startled by a loud cracking sound as one of them whips a towel at him. It snaps wetly against the back of his bare thigh, just below the hem of his boxers. He flinches. It stings a lot. But he still faces away, silently buttoning his shirt._

_“You won’t get a rise out of him with that, Bobby,” the first voice speaks up again. “He doesn’t want you to whip his ass, he wants you to put your cock in it.”_

_That’s more than enough. Dan reaches quickly into his locker, grabbing his trousers and pulling them on as fast as he can. He bites the inside of his cheek to prevent the lump in his throat from escaping as a sob, before hastily pulling all the rest of his stuff and taking off._

_The nearest escape is the emergency exit at the back of the gym and there’s probably a 50 percent chance that an alarm goes off when he bursts out through the door. He thanks a god he’s almost sure he doesn’t believe in anymore that it doesn’t. Then he drops everything he’s carrying and tries his best to gulp in slow, deep breaths as he finishes buttoning his shirt, buttons and zips his trousers, and pulls his socks and shoes on. He doesn’t bother with his tie, blazer or belt, shoving them into his backpack along with the rest of the crap that’s fallen out. He stands up, slings it over his shoulder and heads off across the field. He’s never in the mood for school, but now he’s extra-not in the mood today._

_So much for a foolproof system._

His eyes burn with tears that he refuses to let fall. 

Uni’s been great for keeping the bad memories at bay. A brand new school, brand new city, new friends and new Phil have helped make new memories. Happier ones. But the problem is they can only cover up the old, bad ones. They can’t make them go away.

He blinks and breathes in, grateful that he’s sat in the back corner of his lecture hall as he quickly dabs at his eyes with his shirtsleeves and then collects himself. 

He’s fine.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he pulls it out, spirits lifting the tiniest bit when he sees Phil’s name. 

**_phil <3_ ** _: did u hear??? bear escape at chester zoo today_

Tears form in his eyes again, this time from the sudden upswing in emotions. He supposes if anyone could be could be capable of doing that to him, it’d be Phil.

 _wot O_O no way,_ he types back, hitting send and feeling probably the lamest thrill when he sees those three typing bubbles pop up on Phil’s side almost immediately. 

**_phil <3_ ** _: yes way!! sammy the malayan sun bear_

 _is he ok?_ he replies. _they didn’t shoot him or anything right_

 **_phil <3_ ** _: they got him into a travelling crate and released him back into his den. apparently he tried getting into the polar bear den tho_

Dan feels his expression soften as he types out his next reply.

_maybe he just wanted to make friends. bears need love too :(_

**_phil <3_ ** _: their website says sun bears are usually solitary except for during mating. but idk, maybe he’s different. you’d know better than me, bear ^_^_

Texting Phil keeps a smile on his face the rest of the night - through the rest of his lecture, through dinner and through the three hours of Halo he plays to avoid doing his homework.

It’s not until he finally settles down in bed, drifting towards the tricky, surreal mindscape that exists between awake and asleep, that the uneasy feeling returns.

-

Friday isn’t great either.

 _This isn’t the first time he’s gotten to school too early. Normally he’d rather die than spend a single unnecessary moment in this godforsaken building. But that just goes to show how shit things are at home, if fucking_ school _is his escape._

_He’s not even sure if he’s allowed to be in the building yet, so he shoves his hands in his pockets and shuffles slowly, quietly along the halls. Something doesn’t feel right this morning, but then again, does it ever?_

_When he turns the corner and sees Gary the janitor halfway down the hall, furiously scrubbing what he knows is his locker, he doesn’t even have the capacity to be upset. Part of him is telling himself to just walk away. Instead his feet move on their own, taking him down the hall until he’s staring numbly at the variety of words scrawled in red sharpie across his locker: ponce, gaylord, and a select few vulgar ones that pack a bit more of a punch._

_“It’s fine, Gary,” Dan says when the guy turns around, eyes sad and sorry. He doesn’t need to hear an apology; he knows he pities him. This isn’t the first time he’s had to remove something offensive from his locker. “I just need my geography book.”_

_He steps forward when Gary hesitantly moves away to give him room, fumbling with his lock a few times before managing to open it and grab the first book he can get his hands on. He can tell from the shape and the weight of it that it’s not his geography book, but he doesn’t care. He’s only saving face - or trying to, for whatever goddamn reason. Probably doesn’t even matter anymore. Still, he’s not sticking around to find the right one._

_When the numbness wears off, this is gonna hurt, possibly more than the stones he sometimes gets pelted with after school. But maybe it won’t wear off this time, he muses. He wouldn’t mind that, but he doesn’t get his hopes up._

_He always feels again, eventually. Frankly, he’s starting to get tired of it._

_He stares at his feet as he walks down the hall, out the door to the car park and into the front seat of his shitty Vauxhall Corsa. It’s not until he’s sat in there that he bothers to read the cover of the book._

_Abnormal Psychology._

_This isn’t even his, it’s his girlfriend’s. He must have gotten some of their stuff mixed up when he carried her books to her locker yesterday. He shakes his head, closes his eyes and leans forward until his forehead’s pressing against the cold leather of the steering wheel. Then he opens up the book._

_Maybe it has some answers as to whatever the fuck is wrong with him._

He never did find any good answers, now that he thinks about it.

He stops walking, pausing in the middle of the sidewalk to look around and make sure he still knows where he is. He doesn’t often get lost when he wanders like this, but there’s been a few embarrassing times he has. He sighs in relief when he spots the familiar Starbucks on the other side of the street. 

He should feel good today and he’s annoyed that he doesn’t. It’s not fair that the memories won’t leave him alone, even though he’s found something so genuinely good. His brain seems to have a way of making sure that he never gets to be _too_ happy. _Oh, you have a boyfriend who makes you feel safe? Well, the rest of the world isn’t as nice as him, remember?_ Two steps forward, one step back. What a stupid, stupid game.

There’s only one way to shake himself out of this. He needs to see Phil.

But first, he turns and crosses the road.

-

Phil looks so engrossed in his book that Dan almost feels bad walking up to him. There’s something he loves a lot about how Phil loses himself in little fictional worlds - whether it’s a book, movie, game, or something else, his capacity for the suspension of disbelief is admirable. So he approaches the library information desk quietly, reaching over and plucking Phil’s book out of his hands once he’s close enough. Phil startles, eyes wide and a little annoyed as his head jerks up at the interruption, but then his expression immediately softens. 

“Hey,” Dan smiles and holds out the cup of hot coffee he’s brought, cooled down to slightly lukewarm from walking across town in the cold, “I thought you might want a pick-me-up.”

Phil’s eyes light up. “Oh my god, you’re the best,” he sighs, and their fingers brush as Dan hands the cup off to him. “I overslept this morning and didn’t have time to make coffee. I thought I was gonna die.”

Dan leans his elbows on the counter, dog-earing Phil’s page in his book and setting it to the side while Phil gulps down about half the cup in one go.

“Phew. I’m revived,” Phil sets the cup down with a dramatic sigh, and then finally leans over the desk as well, their forearms almost touching. “That’s it?” He asks softly. His eyes are questioning, and that’s valid. Dan doesn’t exactly visit him at work much. “You just came to bring me coffee?”

Dan lowers his head. “And I wanted to see you,” he admits. “I missed you. And couldn’t stop thinking about tonight.”

“Do you still want to?” Phil asks quickly. “If you don’t feel sure we can still wait, you know, I-”

“Phil,” Dan cuts him off, dropping his head into his hands and breathing out a laugh before looking up again. Not because it’s funny, but because he’s kind of lost for anything else to do. “I want to, you know that. We’ve been dancing around this for weeks. I’m just… I’m never not gonna be a little nervous. But I know what I want, okay?”

Phil pauses a moment, then nods. “Yeah, okay. Here,” he ducks down under the counter for a moment, and Dan hears some rustling around before he comes back up, keys in hand. “I’m on until five, but you can wait at my house until then if you want.”

Dan wants so badly to lean in and just kiss him. But instead he takes the keys with a nod.

“Okay,” he says, feeling lighter as he backs away from the desk. “See you later.”

It’s much longer to walk all the way to Phil’s house than it would be to just head back to his dorm, but he’d be walking here eventually either way. Even though Phil’s nicely suggested that they hang out at Dan’s several times, he’s refused. The cinder block walls of his room just don’t make for a sexy atmosphere, no matter how many Christmas lights he strings up.

He answers a series of texts from his mum while he walks, more to keep his mind busy than anything else. 

Yes, he has plans for the weekend _(true.)_

Yes _,_ he’s liking his classes _(not true.)_

Yes, he’s figured out how to use the laundromat _(not true.)_

Yes _,_ he’ll be sure to call grandma soon _(true.)_

All things considered, 50% truth is alright for him. Lying to his mum doesn’t make him feel great, but he’s not got the energy to feel guilty about it right now. He’s going to have a good night tonight.

The house is quiet when he lets himself in and it seems like no one else is home. He wonders if that’s a coincidence, or if Phil had asked his housemates for some privacy tonight. The thought of that makes his cheeks feel warm.

Doesn’t matter. He heads up to Phil’s room, drops his backpack on the floor and flops down onto the bed, burying his face in one of the pillows and inhaling deeply. 

It’s instantly soothing. Phil’s soft pillowcases hold the scent of his shampoo, cologne, aftershave, laundry detergent and fabric softener - nice, fresh, comforting things that, when mixed with warmth and security and baby blue eyes, all add up to Phil. He can even smell traces of his own cologne in certain spots, more towards the left side. He loves that. It makes it feel like more than just the left side of Phil’s bed. 

It makes it feel like _his_ side.

By the time Phil gets home, he feels good again. He’s freshly showered, dressed in just his pants and one of Phil’s hoodies, and curled up on the bed with a thick stack of pages he’d noticed on top of Phil’s desk. The click of the door opening actually startles him a fair amount, before he looks up to see Phil grinning at him in amusement.

“Looks like you made yourself comfortable,” he notes, dropping his bag and kicking off his shoes before walking over to the bed. 

“Did you really write this?” Dan asks as Phil settles next to him. He turns the cover page over to show him. 

**SHADOWS**

by: Phil Lester

“Oh,” Phil looks almost sheepish, dropping his head to rest on Dan’s shoulder and thumbing through a couple of the pages. “Yeah. Just something for my screenwriting class. It’s a really rough draft. Still needs a lot of work.” 

“It’s amazing,” he looks over at Phil in awe. “I didn’t know you wrote psychological horror. _And_ it’s gay. I swear your brain is the best thing that’s ever existed.” 

Dan wonders if he’s said something wrong when Phil doesn’t respond at first. Though he’s not sure what, when all he’s done is given a bit of praise. Then Phil clears his throat, reaching out and taking the script carefully out of Dan’s hands. “Yeah, um,” he shuffles the pages idly. “My professor isn’t wild about the gay part. He wants me to cut it out.” 

Some of the warmth in his chest dissipates as Phil leans over him to place the script back on the desk. He wants to say something, figures he should. He just… doesn’t know what. 

He doesn’t have to figure it out. Phil’s mouth is on his just a second later. 

-

“Ow. Easy,” Phil giggles, bracing one hand on Dan’s hip and using his other to rub the spot on his ribs Dan’s managed to elbow in his rush to straddle him. 

He runs a shaky hand through his hair before bracing both hands down on Phil’s chest. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Phil says quickly. His eyes rake up Dan’s naked body as he settles his other hand on his waist and mouths something to himself that looks like _oh my god._

He goes happily when Phil tugs him down into another kiss. He melts into it and moans when Phil’s arms slip around him to hold him in place as he rolls his hips up, hard cock rubbing against Dan’s with the most amazing friction. 

“Mmph. Fuck, that’s really good,” he whispers against Phil’s mouth. He rocks along with his movements, breath coming in little gasps. “God.” 

His heart is racing for more than one reason, and he knows Phil can tell when he slows down, kisses him softly and asks if he’s still good. 

He promises he is. What they’re doing feels fucking amazing. Of course he’s good. 

“Good,” Phil nods. He slides his hands down Dan’s back and grabs his ass, squeezing and then pulling his cheeks apart a little bit. 

Okay, so that’s new. He knew it was coming, but it’s new. He processes it, hums, spreads his legs some more and sighs into another kiss. 

Then he focuses on breathing. He keeps his breaths as deep and slow as he can between kisses, as Phil spreads him wider and presses a finger bluntly against his hole, sighing. 

“So hot,” Phil murmurs. He pushes his finger down with just enough pressure to make Dan gasp and roll his hips forward, cock aching and dribbling precum. Phil smirks against his lips and presses down again, earning the exact same reaction. So he does it again. And again. And again, and again, and again until Dan feels like he’s losing his mind a bit, and there’s not even anything inside him yet. 

“You like that,” he whispers. Dan thinks he’s trying to say it as a question, but it sounds like a statement. A true one. He’s flushed and panting when he sits up at Phil’s instruction. 

“You’re killing me,” he replies, instead of giving a yes or no. Phil sits up, balancing on his hands behind him. 

“ _I’m_ killing _you_?” He laughs softly. “Do you even know what you look like right now?”

One thing’s for sure, Dan thinks as he’s lavishing Phil’s neck with little bites and kisses and listening to him rummage around the desk drawer closest to the bed. If Phil’s gonna gas him up this much every time they fuck, then it might just become his new favourite hobby. 

Then he hears the lube cap pop open. 

The way he shudders is involuntary, but it makes Phil pause. 

“It’s okay,” he assures, before Phil can even ask. Phil pulls back and searches his eyes, and Dan nods. 

“Okay,” Phil’s eyes are soft and shining, laying back and taking Dan down with him. “Come here, then.”

-

That’s just about when things had stopped going so well.

And now they’re here. 

The tears are at bay, he’s got that going for him. He takes his hands away from his eyes so he can scramble under the duvet and turn onto his side, facing away from Phil. Neither of them say anything, so Dan just closes his eyes and listens. Listens to the lube bottle being capped, the condom getting tied off and discarded who-knows-where. Listens to the sound of Phil slipping under the duvet next to him, right before his hand comes to rest on Dan’s shoulder.

Lightly. Cautiously. Not touching him anywhere else, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to anymore. 

That’s so fucked. It’s no one’s fault really, but it’s fucked.

“We should talk about that,” Phil says, his voice quiet and careful.

Dan laughs once, completely devoid of mirth. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he says dully. “I spent years trying to pretend I didn’t want to have sex with men. And now that I’ve stopped pretending, turns out I’m not even good at it.”

He doesn’t really expect any response from Phil, but he especially doesn’t expect laughter.

However, after another awkward moment of silence, that’s exactly what he gets. 

Not malicious laughter. Phil’s laughter is light, breathy and musical, which he can’t be upset about; it’s just that he has no fucking idea what’s so funny.

“Sorry,” Phil says after a minute. He tugs on Dan’s shoulder a little and he defeatedly turns onto his back. Phil doesn’t look annoyed or disappointed. He looks just the same as always as he lays down, facing Dan on his side. “No one’s good their first time, Dan, think about it. Were you good the first time you had sex with a girl?”

“No,” he says automatically. He knows he sounds bitter, and he doesn’t care. “Thanks for reminding me.”

Phil sighs. “No, I mean…” he trails off, leaving Dan to wonder if _Phil_ even knows what he actually means. He turns his head to look at him, finding the same searching expression he’s seen so many times before. 

“You mean what?” He asks eventually.

Phil blinks at him. “I mean, I don’t think this is about not being good. I think there’s something else bothering you.”

...Well.

God damnit. 

He rolls over into Phil’s arms only because his throat is beginning to tighten and his bottom lip is starting to wobble again and he’s _not_ going to cry. Even as the memories from this week come flooding back, with others among them, flashes of depression and humiliation and a dark, cold, lack of hope, he’s not going to cry.

He’s not, he’s not, he’s not. 

He doesn’t. With his head tucked into Phil’s shoulder, with one of Phil’s arms around him and the other cradling the back of his head, he doesn’t cry. He feels Phil’s chest rise and fall and syncs his breathing up to him as best as he can, and he doesn’t cry. He feels Phil’s lips brush against his temple, then press a kiss there, and he doesn’t cry. He just cools off. 

“I’m not gonna forget,” he says after some time. 

Phil nods. “Forget what?” He asks. He probably knows, but he asks anyway. That’s nice of him. 

“Everyone hating me,” Dan says bluntly. “Even when I’ve got new stuff making me happy, I’m still not gonna forget everyone just… just _fucking_ hating me.”

He can’t see Phil’s expression, but imagines he’s frowning. He keeps going anyway. “Gay is just an awful fucking word. I reached a point when I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I couldn’t stand what it meant. I just wanted the whole fucking word and the whole fucking _thing_ to stop existing. I thought, I wouldn’t have to put up with this if gay people didn’t exist at all, if they’d just never existed, if there was never a reason to even have a word for it, if-“

“Whoa,” Phil cuts him off mid-rant. “Dan.”

Dan doesn’t blame him. His thoughts are terrible and no one should have to hear them. Especially not someone like Phil, who he’s probably hurting just because he can’t get the fuck over himself. 

“But that’s shitty of me,” he says after a quiet moment, “to feel that way. It’s not fair to everyone else. They should get to be happy and love whoever they want and I’m the one that’s really the problem. I don’t hate gay people. I just hate one gay person, and it’s me.”

Phil doesn’t speak for a good long while. Dan knows he’s not checked out of the conversation because he’s still tracing patterns with his fingers up and down Dan’s back, still pausing that to hold him a little tighter once in a while. He even breathes in a couple times like he’s going to speak up, but then he doesn’t. 

Until he does. 

“If you had the chance to magically turn straight,” he says in a thoughtful tone, “would you take it?”

The question catches him off guard. He tilts his head up to see Phil looking down at him. He must look confused, because Phil goes on. 

“Someone asked me that last year,” he explains. “A drunk girl at a house party, I told her I was gay so she’d stop pressing up against me and flirting. She was cool about it, but then we got to talking, and you know how drunk people have no filter. So… she asked.”

Dan stares at him for another moment. “Huh.”

“I never gave her an answer,” he shrugs, “because I didn’t have one, and I still don’t. I think about it sometimes and it’s like, how the hell am I supposed to know?”

Dan closes his eyes for a few breaths, then blinks them back open. “If you’d asked me that a year ago?” He bites his bottom lip and worries it between his teeth. “I’d have said yes for sure. But that sounds fucked up to me now.”

Phil lifts his eyebrows slightly. “What changed?”

The answer to that, Dan knows, is unsurprisingly simple. He swallows just to make sure he’s not choked up when he speaks.

“I met you.”

He watches a slow smile spread across Phil’s face, and eagerly leans into the hand that slides around to cup his cheek before Phil kisses him, languid and sweet.

It takes a long, long time for them to break apart. 

“I was nervous about tonight,” Phil says, once they’ve finally separated.

Dan furrows his brow before his eyes are even properly open. “Why?” he asks. “You’ve done this before.”

Phil shrugs. “Not with you.”

He’s not sure what to say to that.

“You’re different,” Phil continues when he doesn’t respond for a bit. “You make me feel things that I’m really terrified of feeling. I don’t wanna fuck up and lose you.”

“You…” Dan trails off, blinks, and shakes his head. “What?”

“Don’t wanna fuck up and lose you,” Phil repeats, softly. “I’ve never felt this way.”

Dan just stares, until Phil’s expression turns slightly troubled and he turns his head away.

“Um,” he clears his throat a bit, “please say something besides ‘what’ so I know I didn’t just scare you off.”

“You didn’t!” Dan reaches out and turns Phil’s head back over towards him. “Scare me off, I mean. You didn’t.”

Phil’s face relaxes considerably. 

“I just don’t know how to say what I need to without sounding like a bad teen movie,” he adds.

“You can say it,” Phil says. His hand smooths over Dan’s head to rub gentle circles into the back of his neck. “It’s just me.”

 _It really is,_ he thinks. Just Phil. And Phil is very safe. 

“It might be a long time before I get over myself,” he sighs. “Like, before I leave secondary school behind and stop being afraid of who I am.” He traces his fingers lightly over Phil’s chest, collarbone and shoulder. “I really want to, I promise. But it seems unfair to make you put up with that in the meantime.”

There’s a pause. And then:

“Oh,” Phil laughs a little, so soft that it’s almost a whisper. “It’s plenty fair.” 

Dan feels skeptical about that. “Really?”

Phil nods. “I’ve been out for a couple years longer than you, but that doesn’t mean I know everything,” he says. “I really don’t. I don’t know shit. But I know you make me happy, and I think you make me a better person, and I can try to like you enough for both of us until you get the hang of it… Dan?”

It’s only then that Dan realises he’s hovering on top of Phil, straddling him on his hands and knees. Phil looks curious, his hands resting tentatively on Dan’s waist. He’s not sure exactly when he shifted into this position, but there’s something about Phil like this that’s so alluring; that makes it feel like the space between their bodies is charged with electricity, heat, magnetism… a pull so strong that he realises he’s shaking just trying to keep himself propped up.

So he stops trying. 

Phil makes a small noise of surprise when Dan collapses on top of him and breathes in sharply through his nose when he kisses him hungrily. 

It’s a little sloppy as they both try shifting to a more comfortable position without separating for too long. It’s also ultimately unsuccessful, leaving them breathless and giggling with their legs tangled in the duvet that’s so twisted around them it’s just downright uncomfortable at this point. 

“So… we’re probably not gonna get smoother at this stuff,” Dan says as he watches Phil try kicking the duvet away while still laying half on top of him, “are we?”

Phil pauses. “Knowing me?” He asks, eyes shining with laughter as he looks down at him, then drops a quick kiss onto his lips. “It’s cute that you thought we even had a chance.”

-

It’s not often that Dan finds himself lost for words. Even in the most emotionally intense situations he tends to get more talkative, not less. Which is why he’s surprised that all he’s managing is a series of soft, breathy moans as Phil works him over with his tongue.

It’s pretty amazing, really, how much just sliding a pillow under his bum makes this position so much easier to hold, takes off a lot of the strain and lets gravity do most of the work keeping his legs up while Phil licks over his hole, hands braced on the back of Dan’s thighs for support. 

The duvet lays crumpled in the corner of the bed they’d kicked it to after successfully untangling themselves, the lube and box of condoms back out and again he finds himself feeling so open and so exposed - even moreso than before, actually. But it’s thrilling instead of scary - so receptive to the warm, soft pleasure, the stimulation getting him hard again in almost no time. His hole is still wet and loose from before, but that doesn’t seem to stop Phil from taking his precious time, sucking and kissing and massaging his tongue in a firm, steady rhythm, licking inside while all Dan can really do is breathe, moan, flutter and relax his hole and try not to cum too soon. 

“Fuck,” is the first word he eventually manages, brokenly, when Phil slips two lubed-up fingers easily inside and bends them just right, pressing down on what he guesses is his g-spot if it’s making him see stars behind his eyelids. He feels Phil press a few kisses to his inner thigh, working his way around his groin until he’s kissing and nipping the soft, sensitive skin stretched over Dan’s hipbone. He hears the lube cap pop open and feels Phil’s fingers slip away, lifting his head just in time to see Phil gazing up at him, watching him carefully as he pushes back inside with three. 

His head drops back onto the pillow. 

“Phil,” he sighs, blindly reaching down until he’s gripping what he thinks is Phil’s shoulder. He knows his hand is shaking - hell, his whole arm is shaking, but for the best reason possible. “Phil, come here.”

Phil sits up dutifully and - in a surprising show of dexterity - catches Dan’s legs when he drops them to wrap around Phil’s waist.

He breathes out, gazing almost in awe as he smooths his hand up one of Dan’s legs, before leaning over and settling on top of him for a kiss. And then another. And what the hell, about five more, just for good measure. 

“Are you sure?” He whispers in between. “Absolutely sure?”

Dan nods. He holds Phil’s gaze while he searches his eyes, and seems to be okay with what he finds, because he nods back. 

“Okay,” he whispers, and pulls back.

There’s the crinkling sound of the condom wrapper being torn open, but Dan doesn’t bother watching the whole rolling-it-on process. He lays back, breathes deeply and gasps a little when he feels a cold drizzle of lube over his hole.

“Sorry,” Phil huffs out a slightly sheepish laugh and then his fingers are there, warming and massaging it in. “We should use a lot. I think we rushed before.”

Dan hums a little. He really does trust it to go better this time around.

He draws in another sharp breath when he feels Phil’s cock, hard and slicked up, push inside the first bit. But he doesn’t freeze up. When Phil’s all the way in, hovering on top of him and kissing him fervently, he clenches again on instinct. Because it’s still substantially bigger than three fingers, and the breach still isn’t a familiar sensation, but he kisses Phil through it, lets himself relax, and when Phil finally starts moving, just a gentle, shallow rocking of his hips at first, he feels ready. 

He hums affirmatively, again, when Phil asks, again, if this is okay, and then feels himself blush a little at the way Phil grunts, pulls his hips back a little further, and starts fucking him a little deeper and faster.

“You feel so fucking good, Dan,” he breathes into the crook of his neck, where he’s pressing hot, messy kisses. “Holy shit.”

“You- ah!” His response gets cut off by a slight change in angle that drives Phil’s cock right into his prostate. He finds himself digging his nails into Phil’s back. “You too,” he manages on his second try. “Fuck, harder, please.” 

“Kiss me first?” Phil asks. Dan doesn’t hesitate to tug him in, their mouths colliding in a kiss that’s clumsy but sweet. Phil sighs softly into it, then speeds up. 

It’s a really good thing there’s no one else home, because this whole affair is louder than Dan had expected. The bed isn’t exactly quiet, and neither is he. Even though he still can’t bring himself to say much, his moaning and whining makes plenty of noise. He’s sure the more they do this, the more he’ll learn to control himself, but that doesn’t matter right now. 

Right now, all that matters is he’s with Phil, and Phil makes him feel fucking amazing. Sure, it’s not glamorous. He’s starting to sweat, some of his muscles are a little sore, Phil doesn’t hit the right spot every single time and neither of them are exactly eloquent, but that’s fine. He’d gladly throw out his thesaurus if it meant getting to listen to Phil moan to him forever about _fucking good_ he feels. 

It’s not long before he feels a familiar heat starting to pool in his lower belly, thighs shaking a little bit where they’re wrapped around Phil’s waist. He’s never had a buildup quite like this before, but he knows he’s going to cum soon, so he shoves his hand down in between them, gripping his cock and jerking himself as best as he can in time with Phil pounding him. And Phil definitely notices. 

“Mm, you’re close,” Phil murmurs, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Fuck, lemme see you cum.”

That takes him right over the edge, toes curling and eyes rolling back in his head as he cums in hot, white spurts over his fist, splashing further up on his stomach and chest than he’s used to from the force of Phil fucking him through it. He’s just coming down from it, feeling the aftershocks beginning to simmer through his body when Phil drives himself in deep one last time, burying his face in the crook of Dan’s neck and moaning. Dan lets his eyes fall shut in exhaustion but still holds Phil to him, feeling his muscles tense and relax as he shudders through his own orgasm.

It feels like it lasts forever, even though it’s just a few seconds. Something about being this close to Phil makes time stand nearly still, and he’s fully okay with that. He’ll take every little moment that he can.

“Wow,” Phil breathes after a bit, once he’s stilled. “I’m trying so hard not to collapse on top of you right now.”

Dan’s so ecstatic and full of adoration that all he can do is throw his head back against the pillow and laugh, tugging Phil down to him and wrapping him up in his arms. 

He doesn’t want to let go.

Phil laughs into his shoulder before lifting his head just enough for a sweet kiss on the lips. 

He _really_ doesn’t want to let go.

He has to eventually, so they can clean up and so Phil can fetch them some Ribena from the kitchen since they’ve both worked up a substantial thirst. But it’s not long before they’re back in bed, in each other’s arms where, Dan just can’t help but think, feels like right where he’s supposed to be. 

“So,” Phil says after some time cooling down. “You think you might wanna… do that again sometime?”

Dan looks at him in amusement. “I think I wanna do that again a lot of times,” he replies, shuffling in closer and meeting Phil’s lips in a kiss. “Like… a _lot_ of times.”

 _For a really long time,_ he thinks, but he doesn’t speak that part out loud. He knows what he’s got with Phil is something special, there’s simply no way it’s not. But he’s not going to get ahead of himself yet. 

For now, he’s happy to just stay exactly where he is.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> [reblogs](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/lestered/625825125708759040) are very much appreciated ♥️
> 
> [lestered.tumblr.com](https://lestered.tumblr.com/)


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